Unchained Melody
by M. D. Hazel
Summary: An ongoing compilation focusing on Ironhide and Ratchet. Featuring: Mikaela, Jolt, Optimus, Wheeljack, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.  WARNINGS: Character death, angst, slash, fluffies, some out of character softness.
1. Hatchet

_Musical Meme_

Chapter IX

**Song:**

'_Missundaztood' - Pink_

**Lyrical inspiration:**

_I might be the way everybody likes to say  
I know what you're thinking about me  
There might be a day you might have a certain way  
But you don't in my luxuries  
And it's me, I know I know my name  
Everything I want I always do  
Lookin' for the right track  
Always on the wrong track  
But all you're catchin' are these tracks that I'm  
Layin' down for you_

_It's not that complicated I'm just misunderstood_

Ratchet glanced up from his datapad as the doors to the medbay slid open, revealing a limping Ironhide who was followed (much to the CMO's dismay) by the Lamborghini twins, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. His eyes roved disapprovingly over the three mechs before he stood from his desk, tossing the datapad back into the appropriate drawer. He approached Ironhide, eyeing his obviously injured leg in exasperation as it leaked energon all over his pristine white floor.

"What have you done now, you afthead?"

Ironhide huffed an indignant sigh through his vents, hauling himself up onto one of the berths before supplying simply, "Sparring with Bumblebee."

"Why do I not find myself at all surprised?" Ratchet grunted, before eyeing the twins warily, "And why are _you_ here?"

"The boss-man asked us to 'escort' lughead here down to the bay, because he was refusing to go," Sideswipe responded as Ratchet gave Ironhide's somewhat mangled leg a once-over.

"This will sure make it hard for them to have any fun in the berth anytime soon," Sunstreaker snickered, elbowing his twin slightly and wiggling his optic ridges suggestively.

"Do you not have something better to do, you little critons?" Ratchet grumbled as he popped the armor plates on Ironhide's leg open.

"…Maaaybe," Sideswipe appeared thoughtful for a moment, and Ratchet snorted sardonically.

"Good. Now, get out."

"Hoo," Sunstreaker laughed, "You're in a _mood_ today, Ratch."

"Out. Of. My. Medbay," Ratchet ground out, not even bothering to spare a sidelong glance at the twins as he worked at the bolts in Ironhide's leg. He did _not _have the patience to deal with those two today… Or any day, for that matter.

"Somebody got up on the wrong side of the berth," Sideswipe mumbled to his twin, who snickered in response.

"Maybe he just needs to be 'faced," Sunstreaker offered helpfully.

"Get _OUT_!" Ratchet roared

"Primus, you're mean!" Sunstreaker quipped, giving Ratchet a rude sign with his finger.

"Awh, Sunny," Sideswipe pretended to pout; "Ratch isn't mean! He's just misunderstood."

Ratchet was positively seething, a venomous glare plastered across his features as he finally looked up from Ironhide's injury at the twins.

"Pffft! Misunderstood my aft. And he wonders why mechs form mean opinions of him before they even have the misfortune of wandering into his medbay…," Sunstreaker mumbled, making a beeline for the double doors.

"That's why we call him Ratchet the Hatchet," Sideswipe supplied, assuming Ratchet couldn't hear him as he scuttled out the doors behind his twin.

But the CMO heard perfectly. He waited until they were a good distance down the corridor before he stepped out of the medbay, wiping his hands on a rag and sliding an autobot-sized wrench from his subspace pocket and into his deft fingers.

Ratchet flipped the wrench over in his hand a few times, seemingly testing the weight before he pulled his arm back and snapped it forward so fast that Ironhide was hardly able to see the motion. The wrench went spinning through the air with transcendent speed and accuracy. The weapons specialist winced slightly as the tell-tale _CLANG!_ attested to the CMO's flawless aim and he watched as Sideswipe fell forward with a pained yelp, rolling twice and impacting the back of Sunstreaker's knee struts, effectively taking him down as well.

"Primus…," Ironhide mumbled as Ratchet reentered the medbay, "Remind me never to piss you off."

Ratchet grumbled.


	2. Halloween

_Musical Meme_

Choose a subject and go!

Writing: Put your entire music collection on shuffle, hit play, and write. Write for as long as each song plays and move on to a different writing when the song switches (even if it's mid-sentence). Go for ten songs (or five). If nothing comes, it still counts. If you're listening to a comedian, you can skip it.

Note: I do not do the incomplete sentence thing, so you won't find any of this cut off mid-word. :P Aside from that, I sometimes feel the need to repeat the songs I shuffle to in order to at least get a semi-comprehensive story down all the way. So I cheat.

Chapter I

**Song:**

'_Toccata in D Minor' – Johann Sebastian Bach_

**Lyrical inspiration:**

_None! Song is instrumental. (Check it out! I'm sure you've heard it, it's a classic.)_

It was Halloween night. For most people it meant either trick-or-treating, handing out candy, visiting graveyards, dressing up in costumes and/or partying like crazy. For the transformers, it meant sitting around in a circle around Sam and Mikeala as they shared 'ghost stories' while holding flashlights under their chins (which made their faces look completely ridiculous in Ironhide's opinion.)

Optimus observed kindly and, Ironhide suspected, only pretended to be interested.

Ratchet did not even bother to feign interest, and even went so far as to proclaim that "A headless human being with the ability to ride an equine with any rate of success is utterly preposterous and impossible!"

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker joined in the fun by punctuating certain points in the story with noises and sound effects.

Wheeljack was truly fascinated by the stories (particularly the ones involving beheadings, much to the horror of the human teenagers.)

Jazz laughed hysterically at Bumblebee's reactions to the proffered ghost stories when he would jump or squeal in high-pitched, electronic tones at the height of terror.

Ironhide only pretended not to be interested by their stories, when in fact he was truly (and secretly) disturbed by most of them. A rider who collected human heads to replace his own? A scarred, ugly human in a red shirt with massive claws that paraded around killing like a serial murderer? A human male in a mask that killed other humans with a chain saw? He bit back a shudder somewhat successfully, although he was slightly aware of Ratchet eyeing him suspiciously.

The night passed rather quickly, to Ironhide's relief, and soon the lot of them were getting up and heading to their quarters for recharge while Bumblebee whisked Sam and Mikaela away back to the city. The weapons specialist glanced around to find his bond-mate, but after a few minutes of searching the rec. room and attempting to contact him through the bond unsuccessfully, Ironhide decided that the CMO had probably slipped out and went to recharge early.

The black mech crept along the corridors until he came to the door of their quarters and, keying the code on the number pad, stepped inside. He found the rooms completely dark and was somewhat surprised that when he attempted to activate the lights… nothing happened. He pushed it off as another frequent power outage in that particular sector and was stumbling his way toward the recharge berth when his feet came in contact with something solid. Groaning, Ironhide resisted the urge to turn on his headlights, lest he wake his sleeping bond-mate. He had just reached down to move the object out of his path when there was a click behind him, followed by the unmistakable (and currently horrifying) sound of a saw powering up behind him.

The weapons specialist swung around in alarm and came faceplate to faceplate with a devious-looking Ratchet holding a flashlight under his chin and running his rotator saw, cackling madly. Bach's 'Toccata in D Minor' blared from the medic's speakers.

Ironhide never lived down the fact that he screamed like a femme.


	3. Winter

_Musical Meme_

Chapter II

**Song:**

'_Winter Birds' Ray Lamontagne_

**Lyrical inspiration:**

_The stream can't contain such the withering rain,  
And from the pasture the fence it is leaning away  
The clouds crack and growl  
Like some great cat on the prowl  
Crying out, "I am, I am" over and over again_

_The days grow short  
As the nights grow long  
The kettle sings it's tortured song  
As many petalled kiss I place upon her brow,  
Oh, my lady… Lady I am loving you now_

_And though all these things will change,  
The memories will remain  
As green to gold, and gold to brown  
The leaves will fall to feed the ground  
And in their falling, make no sound_

Ironhide waded unhappily through the thick, powdery, fresh winter snow that had fallen on the base during the night. It had started as a torrential rainfall and an ungodly thunderstorm, but sometime after dark it had surprisingly and quickly turned to sleet and eventually to snow. He grumbled to himself as he felt the cold, melted bits of ice crystals dribbling down in between his armor plating and he gave a large, uncharacteristic shiver in a vain attempt to dislodge it all. This season was his least favorite. At least summer did not come with slippery conditions and cold, autumn came only with falling leaves, sans ice and white, and spring brought torrents of rain, but at least the rain didn't manage to lay Ironhide out flat on his aft like the ice and snow did. Winter was dark. It was slippery, it was wet, and it was COLD.

He _hated _winter.

He looked over his shoulder to see Ratchet emerge from the hangar behind him in all of his green glory. Ironhide snorted contemptuously. The wretched medic just _loved_ the winter. The weapons specialist crossed his arms over his chassis tightly as the CMO approached him. He swore he could see a smile twitching on Ratchet's lip components, but it was gone before he could truly catch it.

"What?" Ironhide demanded when he saw them twitch again.

"Nothing," the medic said innocently, although he allowed himself to smile openly now. He linked his arm through Ironhide's as they looked over the blanket of white covering the base and the surrounding landscape. "It's beautiful."

Ironhide grunted derisively.

"You're such sparkling, 'Hide," Ratchet teased gently, touching his lip components gently against the black mech's forehead when he was sure they were alone outside. Ironhide grumbled in a non-menacing way and Ratchet laughed. Ironhide basked in the CMO's laughter; it was rich, warm and so rare in coming that he found his spark tingling behind his armor. If winter made the slagging medic happy, maybe it wasn't so bad after all.


	4. Lies

_Musical Meme_

Chapter III

**Song:**

'_I'm Not Sorry' - The Cranberries_

**Lyrical inspiration:**

_I realize, as he sighed, and he sighed and he sighed.  
'Cause you lied, lied, and I cried, yes I cried, yes, I cry, I cry, I try again._

_I swore I'd never feel like this again,  
But you're so selfish,  
You don't see what you're doing to me_

Ratchet paced the floor ardently, ignoring his bond-mate's impatient sighs and his half-hearted protests. The CMO was absolutely fuming with anger, and Ironhide could feel it radiating from him as though he were pure energy. Ironhide felt as _guilty_ as Ratchet _looked_ angry. He hadn't intended for things to go in this direction. It had started as a simple white lie, but it had escalated to the situation they were in now; Ratchet was pissed beyond the point of even being able to shout, which was rare (and scary, in Ironhide's opinion) and the weapons specialist was all but incapacitated from a deep (and apparently serious) untreated injury.

Ratchet finally stopped pacing and turned to regard Ironhide with frustration. "Why, Ironhide?" he asked in an exasperated tone, "Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't want to make a big deal out of it, Ratchet," Ironhide admitted. "Didn't seem like a big problem to me."

"Well it wasn't _then_," the medic hissed, "But it is _now_."

Ironhide fingered the energon line attached to his arm to avoid looking at his bond-mate. Ratchet stepped forward suddenly and Ironhide started when the medic's fingers gripped his chin and tilted it upward so he could look into his optics.

"That was selfish of you, you slagger."

"I know."

"Do you have any idea what was going through my processor when I found you in stasis lock from energon depletion?" Ratchet demanded and when Ironhide offered no answer, he continued, "I thought that I should have seen right through you when you told me that you were uninjured. I thought that I should have hauled your sorry, oversized aft to the medbay and immediately checked you over when you said you were fine, just to make sure. But I _didn't_, Ironhide," Ratchet spat, "Because I trusted you when you said you were okay. I won't do that anymore."

Ironhide nodded in defeat, focusing his optics on the floor. He gave a grunt of surprise when Ratchet wrapped his arms around his shoulders and buried his head in his neck plating.

"You scared me," the medic murmured.


	5. I'm Trouble

_Musical Meme_

Chapter IV

**Song:**

'_Trouble' – Pink_

**Lyrical inspiration:**

_You think your right  
But you were wrong  
You tried to take me  
But I knew all along_

_If you see me coming  
Down the street then  
You know it's time to  
Go (and you know it's time to go  
cause here comes trouble)_

_I'm trouble  
Yeah trouble now  
I'm trouble y'all_

There was something about Ratchet that Ironhide just could _not_ 'put his finger on' (as the humans put it). The chief medical officer was completely magnetic as far as the black mech was concerned. Ironhide began to quietly and subtly look for excuses to be around the medic and eventually Ratchet seemed to pick up on it; he didn't appear to appreciate it much.

More wrenches were the first clue. One week, the weapons specialist sustained no less than _thirty nine_ wrenches to the cranium, courtesy of one pissed off CMO. This did not deter Ironhide. On the contrary, it just made him want to come back even more. The second indication that Ratchet had noticed was that the medic seemed to be on an increasing number of tirades about Ironhide (especially when Ironhide was there to witness them.) Primus, that medic had a _vocalizer_ on him. Ironhide, disturbingly enough, thought that was just _wonderful_ and was all too happy to spark one of the medic's long rants.

Eventually he began to think there was something wrong with his processor for wanting to be close to that… that chartreuse monstrosity (particularly because he couldn't find the _reason_ he liked Ratchet so much.) That is, until one day when he was walking across the base with Jazz to attend a personnel meeting in the main hangar when they spotted Ratchet heading in their direction from the medbay hangar. Jazz had eloquently solved Ironhide's dilemma when he mumbled to Ironhide;

"Uh oh, here comes trouble."

Ironhide's optics lit up in sudden realization.


	6. Wisdom

_Musical Meme_

Chapter V

**Song:**

'_Wisdom' – Lisa Gerrard_

**Lyrical inspiration:**

_No lyrics. This song is instrumental and vocalization. The story was inspired by the title and by the sound of the song itself (it's despairing and reminded me of what one might hear in their minds while looking at the smoldering, war-brought wreckage of a once-great city.)_

To Ratchet, wisdom meant being around a long time and understanding things as they were. It meant being able to comprehend events… but it also, to him, meant seeing a multitude of things to comprehend.

As he looked out over the burned out flats of Cybertron, he beheld the crumbling buildings, the smoldering ruins of houses and Cybertronian schools, office buildings, communication centers… In the distance he saw the ruins of the Medical Academy and the hospital where he had worked and earned his education in Cybertronian medicine. He saw the winding paths where he and Ironhide would once walk and talk about things completely irrelevant to anything else. He enjoyed those walks… The paths were crushed now, crumbling stone pinned under fallen statues and wreckage. There were bodies littering the streets- mech, sparkling and femme alike. Ratchet shuttered his optics and turned his back on what he saw. He comprehended war, and Primus knows he'd seen the extent of it with his own optics time and time again, whether it be in first-hand combat, the despair of having to take another life or in his own medbay, in the optics of mechs dying before him. Ratchet had been told often that he was among the oldest and wisest of what remained of the Cybertronian race.

Ratchet reflected on the meaning of wisdom as he walked back to the Ark, framed by black smoke that rose steadily behind him on the horizon of a once-beautiful city he had called home.

Yes he had seen war.

But if this was wisdom, then he did not want to be counted amongst the wise.


	7. Here Without You

_Musical Meme_

Chapter VI

**Song:**

'_Here Without You' – Three Doors Down_

**Lyrical inspiration:**

_A hundred days have made me older  
Since the last time that I saw your pretty face  
A thousand lies have made me colder  
And I don't think I can look at this the same  
But all the miles that separate  
Disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face_

_Everything I know, and anywhere I go  
It gets hard but it won't take away my love  
And when the last one falls  
When it's all said and done  
It gets hard but it won't take away my love_

_I'm here without you baby  
But you're still on my lonely mind  
I think about you baby  
And I dream about you all the time  
I'm here without you baby  
But you're still with me in my dreams  
And tonight it's only you and me_

It had been exactly one hundred days (by Earth time) since Ironhide had set out on his solo assignment to hunt and extinguish several remaining Decepticon symbols located on a planet called Gholiton. One hundred days spent alone on this always-dark planet made him lonely and dejected. One hundred Ratchet-less days made him just downright _miserable_. With no other sign of life on the entire planet other than the 'Cons that he was sent to hunt, Ironhide had plenty of time to reflect on things such as the war, the opposition, events passed… But mostly he tried to keep his thoughts centered on his bonded and the weapons specialist often wondered what Ratchet was doing at that precise moment. He could almost see him clearly in his processor, probably throwing a tantrum or… a wrench. Ironhide chuckled.

One hundred days wasn't an immensely long stretch of time by most Cybertronian standards. But for Ironhide, even though he was several millennia old (Ratchet's voice popped into his processor then, 'You old scrap heap!'), it was a long time to go without seeing those he loved, especially his bonded. He missed Ratchet's fleeting glances, his contented sighs, his gentleness that he reserved only for Ironhide when they were alone,… frag, he even missed the clang of the CMO's wrenches when they connected with his helm. Medic had some damn good aim. He was nearly done with the mission now, just needing to catch two lingering 'Con signals before he could return home to the chartreuse mech's arms (and wrench). He clung to thoughts like these, knowing that Ratchet was the only thing that kept his processor from slipping into deep depression, here alone on this planet.

As Ironhide drifted off into recharge later that night, he wished Ratchet sweet dreams, knowing that somewhere else in the universe that the CMO was doing the same.


	8. Bloody Sunday

_Musical Meme_

Chapter VII

**Song:**

'_Sunday, Bloody Sunday' – U2_

**Lyrical inspiration:**

_I can't believe the news today  
Oh, I can't close my eyes and make it go away_

_Broken bottles under children's feet  
Bodies strewn across the dead end streets  
But I won't heed the battle call  
It puts my back up, puts my back up against the wall_

_And the battle's just begun  
There's many lost but tell me who has won  
The trench is dug within our hearts  
And mothers, children, brothers, sisters torn apart_

_How long, how long must we sing this song?  
How long? How long?  
'Cause tonight we can be as one  
Tonight, tonight_

He had blatantly refused Optimus Prime's request to join the Autobot cause and become a soldier, an officer… a fighter. He remembered how adamant he had been about it the first time Prime had asked, but the mech just kept coming back and he, seeing the damage that had been caused by the Autobot's opposition, was having a hard time steeling his resolve on the matter now. While he knew his spark went out to the Autobot cause, he deeply wished to retain a neutral stance politically. He was a diplomat, after all. A politician. He should not… could not choose sides, at least not publicly. Not only that, but there were personal issues to consider as well, the most prominent of which being that he _loathed_ the idea of war. He was a pacifist.

But now… looking down from the 14th floor of the Central building, he could see the damage that was being sustained. The streets of the city were a wreck. The building across from the one he currently stood in had a gaping hole in the side sector that was facing him- it had literally been blown to rubble in a vicious attack from the terror-mongering Decepticon force. Burned datapads were strewn over the rubble, flaming banners floating slowly downward from the sky to drape over the bodies of those who were unfortunate enough to be within range of the blast. He heard from those close to him that the Decepticons were amassing in surprisingly huge numbers and attempting to win over what few neutrals were left. They had said that those who refused to convert to their side were kidnapped, tortured and eventually killed.

Cybertronian sirens blared in his audios and he glanced down to the street again, his gaze sweeping over the destruction. He shuttered his optics, attempting to block the vision from his processor, but it was ingrained… burned into his memory banks.

Diplomacy had failed. There was nothing Ratchet could do.

War had broken out on Cybertron.


	9. Broken

_Musical Meme_

Chapter VIII

**Song:**

'_Broken' – Lisa Gerrard_

**Lyrical inspiration:**

_None. Song is instrumental (piano and strings). Highly recommend it. You may find it here, if interested. _www. youtube .com/watch?v=Ij3U2Ic0Eo8_ - Just remove the spaces.  
_

Sam stood at the door anxiously, looking out over the open expanse of the field. Night was falling fast and he could barely see as huge outlines appeared on the horizon, slowly making their way back to the warehouse. Optimus was the first to arrive, his alt mode revving up over the crest of the hill at break-neck speed ahead of the other two. Sam briefly wondered why; until Optimus reached the warehouse, transformed quickly and heaved open the main door. He turned to Sam and said simply "Ratchet is hurt."

Sam strained his neck to see around the giant bot's legs and glimpsed Ironhide, now close enough to make out the features and details of the big, black mech, carrying an alarmingly prone Ratchet 'bridal style'. Any other time Sam would have quirked a grin and teased the two bots, but the situation kept his mouth shut tight. Dark energon dripped slowly in a trail from the approaching pair and Sam's eyes followed it to the source; Rachet's torso.

"What happened?" Sam stuttered in alarm as they drew nearer.

"Starscream launched a missile at Ironhide while he had his back turned. Ratchet threw himself in its path to protect him," Optimus said shortly, and Sam noticed a hint of static lacing his words.

His face set in a grimly-determined mask, Ironhide limped into the warehouse's main hold, laying Ratchet down gently on the nearest berth and unwrapping the medic's arms from around his neck. In a rare display of tenderness that made Sam's eyes prickle, Ratchet reached out for his bonded and Ironhide wrapped one servo around Ratchet's and laid the other on the of the CMO's faceplates, using his thumb to stroke gently in a gesture that was surprisingly human-like. He saw the hand that Ironhide was using to hold Ratchet's clench tightly, and the black mech laid his forehead gently upon the others, whispering something in Cybertronian that Sam could not understand. He turned questioning eyes on Optimus, who had bowed his head.

"He is saying goodbye," Optimus said heavily.

"Goodbye?" Sam asked, startled.

"Yes. The damage Ratchet has sustained is fatal."

Sam swallowed roughly, "How do you know? Nobody can fix it? Can't we like, get him to the base and have First Aid try…"

"No, Sam," Optimus said quietly, "This is something that I don't think even Ratchet would have been able to fix if it had happened another mech."

Sam quieted then, turning wide eyes back to the pair of Cybertronians across the room.

"You slagger…," Ironhide whispered roughly, "Why'd you go and do that?"

Ratchet jerked, arching his back slightly as he cycled his intakes. A low groan was emitted from his vocal processors and he gripped the weapons specialist's hand tighter for a moment, locking his optics with Ironhide's.

"Couldn't let you… take one in the back, could I? Wasn't right," Ratchet breathed. He shuddered once more before suddenly going slack. Sam could hear his systems start powering down as the medic shuttered his optics.

"Ratchet… please, don't," Ironhide whispered hoarsely, slipping a thick arm under his bonded's back and holding him close to his chassis. Ratchet unshuttered his optics and focused them as best he could on the black mech.

"I'm so sorry, 'Hide…," Ratchet struggled, static clogging his speech. "I can't," he let out a rattling breath, optics dim with pain. Ironhide held him tighter.

"Shhh…" He said gently, rocking Ratchet's form.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Ratch… I'll see you again."

He was not certain whether or not Ratchet had heard those last words, but months later, as Ironhide stood over the 'memorial' that the humans had made in honor of the fallen Autobot CMO, he hoped he had.


	10. I Bring the Fire

_Musical Meme_

**Note: Even though this music challenge said to do ten, this is the tenth chapter, and I don't think I've got a clear intention of stopping them, so plan on more coming your way.**

Chapter X

**Song:**

'_Let it Rock' – Kevin Rudolph feat. Lil' Wayne_

**Lyrical inspiration:**

_I see your dirty face hide behind your collar._

_What is done in vain, truth is hard to swallow._

_So you pray to God to justify the way_

_you live a lie, live a lie, live a lie._

_And you take your time._

_And you do your crime._

_Well, you made your bed._

_I'm in mine._

_Because when I arrive,_

_I, I'll bring the fire._

_What this is, forgot?_

_I must now remind you._

_Let it rock._

_Let it rock._

_Let it rock._

The majority of the Autobot faction stood upon the ridge overlooking the field in front of their base, watching as the enemy Decepticon force advanced slowly in their direction. Despite the situation, the atmosphere surrounding the mechs on the ridge seemed calm, almost meditative as they watched.

"Slagging cons only lie to themselves when they think they can overcome us," Ironhide scoffed.

Ratchet nodded tersely in agreement, "I have little sympathy. They got themselves into that faction, now they have to deal with the consequences."

Ironhide nudged Ratchet in the shoulder as the advancing force reached the bottom of the ridge, "Let's rock."

The battle passed in a blur for Ironhide, as it usually did. He took down a number of enemy drones with ease, sustaining only minimal damage to himself in the process and the overall outlook of the battle was good. He heard Ratchet's buzz saw spinning wildly behind him as the CMO pursued Starscream. Sparing a glance in that direction, he watched as his bond-mate jumped Starscream in a flying leap just as the Decepticon was transforming, effectively pinning him to the dirt underneath Ratchet's extraordinarily heavy weight. He grinned crookedly in that direction for a moment before being forced to turn his attention back to the battle when a shot zipped passed his shoulder, missing his armor by mere inches.

He whipped around rapidly and snarled as Blackout advanced on him. The 'Con was too close to fire on in time and Ironhide knew he was stuck using hand-to-hand combat. Rather than retracting his cannon and using his fist, however, the weapons specialist launched himself forward with surprising speed for his size and rammed the end of the cannon into Blackout's chest. The massive Decepticon staggered backward, regaining his bearing before throwing himself back at Ironhide full force. The two met at high speed in a tangle of limbs and scraping metal. Blackout's chopper blades whirred dangerously, and Ironhide winced as he felt them cut shallowly into the armor on his chest. In a massive display of strength, he heaved the larger Decepticon off of him and sent him careening down the hill. Immediately jumping to his feet, Ironhide moved to take aim.

He discharged his plasma cannon rapidly at full power, catching Blackout's shoulder armor and his thigh, followed by two enormous shots to his chest. The first shot shattered the thick armor plating there and the second sent him immediately offline. The Decepticon fell over in a sparking, smoldering heap. Ironhide, even though he was dangerously low on energy from using his cannon so fervently, straightened his stance proudly and rolled massive shoulders back in a gesture that said "Oh, yeah. I'm bad."

Ratchet ambled up next to him moments later, favoring his left leg heavily. Ironhide noticed that his hip joint was sparking dangerously and leaking fluids all down the limb and he eyed the CMO in concern, opening his mouth to ask if he needed to call First Aid, but Ratchet waved him off impatiently. He leaned on the weapons specialist lightly as he said; "Nothing to worry over. I'll fix it with Aid's help as soon as the critically wounded are treated," Ratchet smirked, "Starscream got away, but he got slagged a lot worse anyway, and I see that Blackout did too."

Ironhide scoffed, jerking his head at the pile of metal that was Blackout, "Stupid slagheads got what they had coming."


	11. What I've Done

_Musical Meme_

**Note:**_**Perhaps, for this particular story and maybe a few that precede it, some background information is required;**_before the war broke out, Ratchet was a Senator on Cybertron and a most renowned diplomat and peace negotiator. He was also Optimus Prime's liaison to the High Council of Ancients. Being these things, Ratchet was highly, _highly_ opposed to the war from the beginning. He remained neutral for as long as he could, attempting to stop the growing hostilities through negotiations and evading Optimus Prime's request that he become an officer under him. When it became clear that the war was inevitable, only then did he join the Autobot cause as a combat medic for the reason that Prime was the most likely being to bring peace back to overcome their civil war, but even then, Ratchet swore an oath that (briefly summed up) said "Do no harm." He has attempted to make good on this oath by not only fervently stamping on the number of lives lost for the Autobot cause, but also occasionally providing emergency medical services to Decepticons on the field who would have otherwise died there, despite the fact that they were the enemy. This oath has obviously been broken, as Ratchet has had to exterminate a few sparks in his time, but the CMO never takes it lightly and harbors known guilt, afterward. How _much_ guilt, however, is up to imagination.

Chapter XI

**Song:**

'_What I've Done' – Linkin Park_

**Lyrical inspiration:**

_In this farewell_

_There's no blood_

_There's no alibi_

_Cause I've drawn regret_

_From the truth_

_Of a thousand lies_

_So let mercy come_

_And wash away_

_What I've done_

_I'll face myself_

_To cross out what I've become_

_Erase myself_

_And let go of what I've done_

_Put to rest_

_What you thought of me_

_While I clean this slate_

_With the hands_

_Of uncertainty_

"Ratchet?" Wheeljack's worried voice drifted into the medbay, through the locked doors.

"Go away," Ratchet shot back, wincing at how scratchy his voice sounded, even in his own audios.

"C'mon, Ratchet…," Ironhide said gently from the other side of the doors and Ratchet tilted an optic ridge at the uncommon tone. "Let us help."

"Leave me _alone_, Ironhide!" Ratchet snarled at the door. His fingers were itching to throw something as he eyed the tool set on his workbench in consideration and when Ironhide's huffed sigh of frustration reached his audios, he made up his mind. Snapping up the largest wrench he could reach, he flung it as hard as he could manage at the door. It impacted with enough force to leave a crater in the metal and Ironhide and Wheeljack stumbled backward in surprise.

"I better comm. Optimus," Wheeljack said, frowning, "He's never been this bad."

Ironhide scowled darkly at the doors as Wheeljack zoned out next to him, seemingly in deep conversation with their leader over an encrypted comm. channel. The weapons specialist could just imagine how the inventor was explaining the situation; 'Ratchet is depressed because he offlined a 'CON and has locked himself in the medbay. He's throwing things at the door.' He huffed impatiently again. Not two minutes after Wheeljack had initiated the connection, Optimus rounded the corner of the hallway, making toward them with long, purposeful strides.

Without so much as a sidelong glance, he tapped in a command override key into the locking pad, and the doors hissed open. When Ironhide and Wheeljack made to follow him in, Prime held out a hand to still their movements, explaining "The best thing right now would be to give him as much space as we can without leaving him to wallow. I'll do what I can. Please wait for me here."

He waited until the two mechs settled against the opposite wall and with that he stepped inside the doors, allowing them to slide closed and lock behind him. He ducked out of instinct as he saw an object fly at him from the left, and he heard it hit the opposite wall and clatter to the floor. Optimus turned immediately to Ratchet just as the CMO was pulling another wrench from his tool kit.

"Ratchet…," he admonished softly, ducking again as that wrench, too, went sailing by his helm. The medic paid him no mind, and pulled a third tool out, flinging it in the same fashion as the two before. Optimus stepped out of the way easily.

"I know you could easily hit your mark with those if you so desired, old friend. You hold the boasting rights to the best aim on this side of the universe," Optimus chuckled, rather darkly, before allowing a more somber expression to settle over his features, "We need to speak."

Ratchet eyed him dubiously, but did not throw the fourth wrench he pulled out from his kit, merely flexing his fingers around it lightly and sighing. Optimus took this as a queue, and slowly stepped closer until he was standing directly in front of the chartreuse mech.

"Speak, then," Ratchet hissed angrily, refusing to look up at the towering CO standing before him, "I have nothing to say."

Undeterred by his CMO's outward anger, Optimus quirked his lips slightly in a small smile, "Ratchet, aside from being one of my officers and my medic, you are one of my most valued friends. I have known you for many, many year's time and because of this I can see right through you when you tell me that you have nothing you wish to say."

Ratchet graced him with an absolutely malevolent glare before deflating suddenly, his shoulders slumping forward as he reached up to rub the bridge of his nose, a gesture which Optimus completely sympathized with.

"Was it the Decepticon you did battle with today?" Optimus prompted gently. For a moment Ratchet did not respond and simply continued pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It was a _kid_, Optimus," The CMO breathed suddenly, feeling completely disgusted with himself, "The date on his spark chamber is not even a quarter of my own age."

Optimus 'hmm'-ed thoughtfully. Ratchet continued, "I offlined him. I tried to bring him back around, but he was just… too far gone."

"Do you regret taking him down?" Optimus asked insightfully.

"No… He was too dangerous. He was taking our guys out left and right, but…"

"Ratchet," Optimus said calmly, "I suspect that he was corrupted from his very first moments of life. He was born into a reality as warped and twisted as it is evil- the reality of the Decepticons. No sparkling should be subjected to what he was more than likely raised with. Yes, it is unfortunate but… You did him a service by sending him to the Well. His spark can find peace there like it has never known."

"But if I could have just kept him from deactivation," Ratchet sighed, "Maybe we could have reformatted him… Maybe he could have had a _chance_, Optimus! He was so _young_. Maybe that's all he needed…"

Optimus turned away and allowed his gaze to sweep over the empty medbay, tilting his head slightly as though contemplating something, "You can't save them all, Ratchet. I know you think you can, but even _you_ can't work miracles."

Optimus jolted slightly as the wrench Ratchet was holding clattered noisily to the floor and he looked over at the CMO to see him holding a shaking hand over his optics. Stepping closer, Optimus noticed that the medic's entire form was quivering violently and he opened his mouth to offer words of comfort, but was cut off when Ratchet keened softly. It was so sudden and unexpected that the large mech faltered for a moment before bringing a steady hand up to grip the CMO's shoulder firmly in a comforting gesture. Ratchet tensed at the gesture, before going slack again, cycling his intakes deeply in an effort to regain control.

"I'm fine," He said weakly, and Optimus suspected Ratchet was saying it more to himself than anyone else.

He did not remove his hand from the CMO's shoulder.


	12. I'm Not Superman

Hey, y'all. I haven't died! Sorry for not updating in… well, forever. For those of you still following this, you have my most sincere gratitude! I have a couple more installments currently in the works and hope to be posting those soon.

_Musical Meme_

Chapter XII

**Song:**

'_Superman (It's Not Easy') – Five For Fighting_

**Lyrical inspiration:**

_I can't stand to fly  
I'm not that naive  
I'm just out to find  
The better part of me._

_I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a plane_  
_More than some pretty face beside a train._  
_It's not easy to be me._

_Wish that I could cry_  
_Fall upon my knees_  
_Find a way to lie_  
_About a home I'll never see_

_It may sound absurd...but don't be naive_  
_Even heroes have the right to bleed_  
_I may be disturbed...but won't you concede_  
_Even heroes have the right to dream_  
_It's not easy to be me_

_Up, up and away...away from me_  
_It's all right...you can all sleep sound tonight_  
_I'm not crazy...or anything..._

_Its not easy to be me._

Ratchet was having one of those days. Again.

They had just returned to Diego Garcia from a particularly fruitless battle, and he was currently listening to a very ticked-off Weapons Specialist rant and rave about how undisciplined some of the younger bots were, and how the humans relied on the autobots too much and how frustrated he was about coming out of a battle with nothing to show but losses, yet again. After humoring the black mech for a good twenty minutes, Ratchet finally snapped.

"We've all been there, Ironhide. It's frustrating, but it'll pass."

"Like you would know, medic. You don't understand."

Ratchet's defenses went up immediately. "You think I don't know what it is to be emotionally pushed and stressed to the limit?"

"Yeah, Ratchet. What you do is so difficult. Patching up scratches, throwing things. Yeah, very stressful," Ironhide shot back in an odious tone.

"Not only am I out there fighting beside the rest of you ninety percent of the time, I'm the one picking the pieces up after you get yourselves scrapped afterward! You think you know stress? I've had to watch countless patients- mechs, femmes and sparklings alike- offline on my own table, under _my_ care," Ratchet hissed venomously.

"That's your own fragging fault, isn't it?"

Ironhide regretted the words the instant they rolled from his vocalizer. Ratchet recoiled as though he'd been slapped, his previously angry optics betraying his hurt and shock at Ironhide's words. The weapons specialist's optics widened in response and he slowly reached a hand out toward the CMO, his anger and frustration evaporating.

"Ratchet, I'm… I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" he stuttered, but the chartreuse mech only shook his head in response, the wounded look still plastered to his face as he turned his back to Ironhide and stalked out of the hangar, fleeing onto the black asphalt of the base.

"Ratchet!" Ironhide called after him desperately, but found himself unable to move from where he was standing, hand still extended out to the empty air. "_Slaggit_!"

Ratchet transformed the instant he reached the outside of the hangar, spinning his tires as fast as they would go before careening off base and onto the road at top speed, determined to get away from everything behind him. Once on the road, the search and rescue hummer was able to control himself better and he allowed the soothing curves of the asphalt to still his raging processor. Several miles off base, he took an abrupt right onto a dirt road and followed it until it let him to the same place that he always came to think. He transformed, shifting his feet slowly as he took in the scenery; the grass under his feet extended out several more meters before cutting off suddenly as it hit a steep outcrop which formed a cliff overlooking the rocky sea below. A single tree stood among the tall grass and shrubbery. After spending a few moments staring out over the edge of the cliff at the sea and the sun setting on the distant horizon, the CMO picked up the nearest thing to his feet, which happened to be a hulking mass of rocks and dirt and hurled it out over the edge of the cliff and into the water, letting an angry shout tear from his vocalizer as he watched it sail over the ledge before hitting the waves below. He staggered backward, colliding with the tree and sliding down to a sitting position. He drew his legs up against himself tightly and let his forehead fall to his knees in defeat. There were times like this when he missed Cybertron more than anything. Things were much more simple, then. Sometimes he thought it would have been easier if he had just been extinguished at the moment the war had broken out. Sometimes he though it would have been easier had he not been a medic. Sometimes he thought he was taken for granted… someone who was there to do his job mindlessly. Sometimes he thought they assumed he had an easy job. A stress-less existence. Duties that did not leave him emotionally exhausted and somewhat depressed at the end of most days. But then again, maybe it _was_ his fault. His patients put their sparks in _his_ hands after all. Was it not his responsibility to make sure they stayed activated? He gritted his dental plating almost painfully hard, digging his fingers viciously into the armor on his knees.

Through his anger, he neither sensed nor heard the GMC Topkick rolling up slowy behind him. He started slightly when Ironhide transformed, but barely glanced in his direction as the black mech came to stand beside him. Ratchet could feel the Weapons Specialist's optics on him and he huffed a sigh of frustration through his vents.

"How many times have you been on the verge of offlining and on my table with your spark in my hands, Ironhide?"

"I know, Ratch. I'm sorry."

"You… You just- you can't even fathom…" Ratchet struggled, shuttering and unshuttering his optics slowly, his gaze never leaving the horizon in front of them.

"Primus, Ratchet… Please don't… I didn't mean to hurt you," Ironhide pleaded. "I didn't mean what I said. I was angry and it just- it just came out! I don't really think that! I… my processor… I was just looking for a way to make someone else feel the same thing I thought I was feeling. I was selfish and just wanted to lash out at something. Shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"No," Ratchet said quietly. "You were right."

Ironhide's spark clenched painfully at the CMO's words. "I was wrong, Ratchet. You have saved all of our sorry afts more times than I care to count. You're the one who is always there, forsaking your own wellbeing for ours and putting yourself at risk to repair us. You put yourself in the center of the battlefield and blindly in harms way to fix fallen mechs. You wear yourself thin in the medbay making sure we all stay functioning. You take losing mechs harder than any of us, I know that. But it's never your fault, Ratch. You do everything in your power to save a spark, no matter the cost. How many medics can say that now?"

Ratchet said nothing, but Ironhide noticed his gaze softened slightly as he stared ahead into the distance.

"Ratch, even if you can't forgive me for being a cranky old scrapheap that doesn't think about things before he says them, at least know that I did not mean it, I don't think it's your fault, neither does anyone else… and that we all know that you were the best thing to ever happen to the Autobot faction."

At this, Ratchet turned his head to look Ironhide in the optics. The sincerity he saw there made all the air his intakes had held expel slowly, his whole form relaxing as he felt the tension leave him. The Weapons Specialist graced him with a small grin. "Besides, who would keep us in line by wrench-throwing if you weren't around?"

A clang rang out over the cliff and shore below as a large rock collided with the metal of Ironhide's face.


	13. Guardian

_**Note:**_ I am not overly fond of this song, but when I came upon during the shuffling, it did remind me immediately of the relationship between Ratchet and Mikaela portrayed in a lot of fanfiction. I just love the bits about them that portray them as a father/daughter, mentor/pupil relationship. I, personally, find it very sweet. So I kind of jumped at the "obligation" the song provided me with to write one with a brief touch of that relationship myself. :)

_Musical Meme_

Chapter XIII

**Song:**

'_Lifeline' – Angels and Airwaves_

**Lyrical inspiration:**

_With an urgent, careful stare,  
And some panic in those eyes  
If I see you lying there,  
I'll do as was done last time._

_If you hear a distant sound,_  
_And some footsteps by your side_  
_When the world comes crashing down_  
_I will find you if you hide._

_And if you wish it, wish it now._  
_If you wish it, wish it loud._  
_If you want it, say it now._  
_If you want it, say it loud._

_We all make mistakes._  
_Here's your lifeline._  
_If you want, I want too_  
_We all make mistakes._  
_Here's your lifeline._

There were voices. They were indistinct and Mikaela was unable to make out who they belonged to, but they were definitely near her. Her brain seemed to grope for answers. Where was she? How did she get here? Why was she numb, and why couldn't she open her eyes? Like a beacon, Mikaela could suddenly make out the voice of Ratchet, and she felt the bed under her vibrate with each syllable the autobot spoke. She cracked her eyes open, and the light that flooded into her lids made her flinch and want to scream in pain.

"Turn that fragging light off!" Ratchet's deep voice commanded.

The light was gone, and Mikaela was able to open her eyes enough to see the figures standing over her; her mentor and the leader of the Autobot faction, Optimus Prime. Both bots optic ridges were drawn together in worry and Mikaela felt the urge to say something to ease their concern, but when she opened her mouth to speak she found herself too weak to form words.

"Mikaela…," Ratchet's voice softened considerably.

"Wh…w…where…?" Mikaela choked out; amazed at the sheer energy it took for her to speak one word.

"You are at Diego Garcia in the medical ward. You have three broken ribs, a punctured lung and a concussion. Please relax," Ratchet said gently, optics fixed on her pale face. Mikaela attempted to lift her head from the pillow to look at her surroundings, but fell back limply after rising only an inch or two.

"Easy, youngling. You're very weak." Ratchet rumbled gently, taking a small step toward her as though he wanted to physically comfort her. Mikaela glanced at him helplessly. Suddenly a thought had plagued her brain.

"Sam and Bee…?" Mikaela gasped.

"They are just fine- Waiting in the hangar to hear about you. You've been asleep for three days," Optimus reassured her.

Three days? She'd been asleep for three days? She shut her eyes and scenes from the fight with Starscream came flooding back. She remembered being face to face with the Decepticon when he had suddenly overtook Bumblebee, Sam and her on one of their evening drives. She remembered Bee trying to dispatch the towering Seeker on his own and failing. She remembered panicking, wondering if Bumblebee was alright… she remembered an explosion of heat under her feet, flying through the air, impact, bones snapping, the pain in her head. She lifted a hand weakly to feel her midsection and wasn't surprised to find it wrapped in bandages. She prodded it lightly and winced at the tenderness. She looked at Ratchet and Optimus with questioning eyes. Optimus seemed to read her mind;

"We did not arrive on scene until the tail end of the fight when Bumblebee sent out a distress signal. When we found you injured, we had no choice but to retreat from the area. Ironhide and I were able to get Bumblebee and Same out safely, and Ratchet carried you to the base hangar to receive the necessary immediate medical attention. Sam and Bumblebee were both relatively unharmed and were treated as well. We were then moved here, to Diego Garcia, once you were stable so you could receive the best care possible."

There was silence for a moment before Mikaela nodded in understanding.

"I'm… Mikaela, I apologize." Ratchet said, lowering his head for a moment before looking at her again. "I'm sorry I couldn't reach you sooner. I was not paying close enough attention to the alerts sent from Bumblebee, and I should have been there. My ignorance nearly cost you your life."

Mikaela frowned at Ratchet's words. "That's… ridiculous," She struggled with a deep breath, "Ratch. Wasn't your fault," She murmured, willing her eyes to remain open. "You can't always be there."

Ratchet nodded slightly, acknowledging Mikaela's words before stepping closer to the side of the bed, "Sleep, youngling. You're safe now."

His gentle and reassuring words rang in Mikeala's ears and she allowed herself to fall asleep peacefully.


	14. Teacher

_Note: _This one was difficult! I landed on it and just thought "Oh,… shit." Luckily for me, I was watching Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen this morning and, hanging on Ratchet's every word (like the crazed fangirl I am,) I was thinking about a few things toward the end, in the Optimus-is-revived scene. Thoughts included;

(1) I don't know Jolt's character at all, except he's young. I also know that he's some kind of apprentice to Ratchet. Portraying Ratchet as I normally do (which may or may not be out of character,) it was pretty easy to fit Jolt in. He's young, so he's probably naïve and maybe slightly eager to get things done, he works under Ratchet… And that electricity stuff looks like hard fragging work.

(2) Why the hell don't the Autobots just beat the (s)crap out of that tiny, anorexic-looking Decepticon (The Fallen.) Oh yeah… he throws tanks. Huh.

Anyway, moving on.

_Musical Meme_

Chapter XIV

**Song:**

'_I'll be at Your Side' – The Corrs_

**Lyrical inspiration:**

_When the daylight's gone, and you're on your own  
I'll pull you through, I will understand  
And you know that  
I'll be at your side  
There's no need to worry  
Together, we'll survive  
Through the haste and hurry  
I'll be at your side, if you feel like you're alone  
I'll be at your side._

Jolt stood, with the rest of the Autobot faction, and looked on in absolute shock as the boy reactivated their leader. A sense of hope rekindled itself in the blue Autobot's spark as Optimus rose from the ground, beaten and dirty, but _alive._ That hope was almost immediately snuffed out as The Fallen swept over them, knocking them all to the ground and pounced on Optimus, forcing him back down.

"_My_ Matrix," The Fallen rasped, before disappearing in a burst of magnetic energy.

Jolt was surprised to find himself on his back. Looking over at Ratchet, who was also hauling himself out of the sand, he wondered how they had been overpowered so easily.

"Get up, get up, get up!" He heard Sam shouting to the fallen Optimus.

"Get up Prime," Jetfire pushed. "Oh, no."

"He's going to the machine, you gotta stop him!" Sam yelled in terror. "OPTIMUS!"

Jolt looked over at Ratchet with questioning optics.

"What's the deal?" he said in disbelief. "He's puny. Can't we just-,"

"Do not underestimate the power of The Fallen," Ratchet admonished quietly in a tone of voice that Jolt was unfamiliar with. "He is a telepath."

Jolt stared at him, not comprehending. He was battle ready, he didn't want to just sit here and watch as the whole planet was destroyed. He revved his engines a bit, directing his sight in the direction of the pyramid and that vile machine. He heard Robert Epps activate his radio.

"Enemy target, top of pyramid. Engage_, engage,__** engage**__!_"

Maybe that meant them, too. He had started forward when Ratchet's arm shot out to block his path. Offering his instructor an annoyed look, he nearly missed what happened next. He followed Ratchet's line of sight back to the pyramid, where The Fallen had raised his arms. Jolt was horrified when all of the humans, along with all of the vehicles, tanks and launchers that they had been using to assault him were lifted from the ground by an invisible force, sucked to the top of the pyramid as if by a tide and _dropped_ at the apex like toys. Jolt jerked in shock as several tons of metal and human beings made impact with the huge stones of the pyramid and rolled down slowly, being destroyed and compacted.

Out of the corner of his optics he saw Ratchet tense.

"All my Decepticon life, I never did a thing worth doing until now," Jetfire was saying desperately. "Optimus, take my parts. Then you will have a power you've_ never_ known. Fulfill your destiny."

Jolt stared on in astonishment as the Seeker ripped his own spark from his chassis, offering a small groan as he smashed to the sand in a sparking heap. Ratchet moved to spring into action quickly.

"Jolt," he shouted, "Electrify! Transplant those afterburners!"

Jolt felt the power course from his spark in waves as he activated his electric lines. He glanced nervously at Ratchet, and the CMO gave him a reassuring nod. Under his mentor's instructions, he attached them to Optimus and began the process of moving parts from the fallen mech to his commander. As the electric currents coursed through him, he felt Ratchet's watchful optics on him the whole time, guiding him through his work. The successful transplant took all of ten seconds, but as Optimus regained his feet and activated his new engines, Jolt felt drained. He watched proudly as Optimus took flight toward the pyramid and destroyed the machine, dragging The Fallen down to the sand below and into the ruins where he could no longer see them. His processor ached and everything burned as he sunk to his knees in the sand. He felt his mentor's presence slide up behind him and Ratchet laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

"You did very well, Jolt," Ratchet praised him, and Jolt basked in the rareness of such words from the CMO. "Very well indeed."


	15. Light Up

**Note:** This will be the last installment in this series, I believe. Will still continue posting stories, but less likely under this title, more likely on their own. However, I will be posting an alternate ending to this one soon as a 16th chapter. Storyline will be the same, ending will not. If you're interested, there is another version of this song (equally beautiful) done by Leona Lewis. As always, I encourage listening to the song that inspired each story.

Here is the Snow Patrol version: www .youtube. com/watch?v=ZQbgihHWNGo&feature=related

Here is the Leona Lewis version: www .youtube. com/watch?v=YqHgPUgj9c8

_Musical Meme _

Chapter XV

**Song:**

'_Run' – Snow Patrol  
_

**Lyrical inspiration:**

_I'll sing it one last time for you  
Then we really have to go  
You've been the only thing that's right  
In all I've done_

_And I can barely look at you_  
_But every single time I do_  
_I know we'll make it anywhere_  
_Away from here_

_Light up, light up_  
_As if you have a choice_  
_Even if you cannot hear my voice_  
_I'll be right beside you dear_

_Louder louder_  
_And we'll run for our lives_  
_I can hardly speak I understand_  
_Why you can't raise your voice to say_

_To think I might not see those eyes_  
_Makes it so hard not to cry_  
_And as we say our long goodbye_  
_I nearly do_

_Slower slower_  
_We don't have time for that_  
_All I want is to find an easier way_  
_To get out of our little heads_

_Have heart my dear_  
_We're bound to be afraid_  
_Even if it's just for a few days_  
_Making up for all this mess._

It wasn't the first time he had been truly afraid, and it wouldn't be the last before the end of the war, but Ratchet remembered that night with a cruel, somewhat harsh clarity. He would never forget what was said or the impact that such simple words had on him.

Ironhide had been selected, along with Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe and a number of other mechs to undertake a particular mission given by Optimus. The object of the mission? No one knew. No one, of course, but those sent to carry it out. They were not permitted to say what it involved but it was, as Ratchet quickly inferred, particularly dangerous. He deduced this the night before the group was supposed to ship out when he and Ironhide were laying together quietly on the berth. He had just started to drift off into recharge when the larger mech startled him out of his stupor.

"Ratchet."

"Mmm?"

"I have to tell you somethin'."

Ratchet huffed impatiently; frustrated that he'd been pulled back from the brink of a quiet recharge that was so rare in coming these days, "Well, out with it."

"Out of everything that I've accomplished since even before the war started, out of every relationship, every partnership, everything… You are the best thing that has happened to me," Ironhide continued, stroking Ratchet's back plating in gentle circles. "I will always be beside you, Ratchet."

"I know this, 'Hide."

"Ratch, listen," Ironhide breathed insistently, his hands resting gently on his bondmate's shoulders as he looked him in the optics. "The first thing I noticed about you when I first met you was that you burn as brightly as a solar flare. Your charisma lit up the entire room, and I was… drawn to you immediately, drawn to your brilliance. I've never shared that or admitted that to anyone. What I'm saying is; I want you to stay that way, even long after I'm gone. I want you to survive to see the end of this war with your own optics. You deserve it, more than any of us."

"Why are you saying this?" Ratchet demanded, bells and whistles suddenly going off with a force in his processor, knowing in the back of his mind that it must have been a very dangerous mission to inspire Ironhide to say such things that were so unlike him. Normally when one of them went off on a mission without the other it was a quick goodbye on the tarmac… but that was when they knew the other was coming back. He knew somewhere in the depths of his thoughts that Ironhide was attempting to prepare him for the worst, but he refused to acknowledge it openly.

"Because I know you. I just want you to be ready if anythin' happens, Ratch. I don't want you to lose yourself, even if you lose me. Do _not_ allow the bond to take you," Ironhide said softly, looking into his bonded's bright optics and reading the hint of fear there. "Understand?"

Ratchet stayed silent, pressing himself further against Ironhide's chassis, forcing himself to listen to the calming, rhythmic pulse of his bonded's spark behind all that black metal.

"I won't lose you."

The next morning found the two of them standing outside on base in front of several large carrier jets, waiting for them to be loaded. Ratchet allowed himself to be held in his bonded's arms and he gripped Ironhide tightly as though afraid he might be carried away by the slightest breeze. Although public displays of affection were not normally his forte, today felt different; this _goodbye_ was… different.

"Ratchet," Ironhide said softly, without pulling away. "Remember what I told you."

It was not a question.

"Just come back," Ratchet breathed, somewhat angry, burying his face into Ironhide's chassis. He felt the unfamiliar emotions of fear and sadness welling within him as he clung to the Weapons Specialist like a vice. When the last of the loading was done and the order to report to the carriers was given, Ironhide touched his forehead gently to Ratchet's, optics shuttering briefly before forcing himself to pull away.

"I love you, Ratch."

"I love you too, you glitch," Ratchet said, trying his damnedest to keep his emotions at bay. "I'll see you when you come back."

Ratchet attempted halfheartedly to shake off the sense of heaviness that settled on his spark as he watched the carrier door close, blocking his view of Ironhide. He straightened his form so he stood tall and schooled his features into a neutral expression. This is what the rest of the bots on the tarmac saw as Ratchet passed by them on his way inside. What they did not see as the CMO walked back to the hangar were his violently trembling hands.

A few days later, Ratchet received word that the battle was through, the mission was won and the remaining mechs were on their way home. Knowing that the knowledge was of the utmost importance to the CMO, the messenger also took care to inform him of Ironhide. Now, as Ratchet stood on the tarmac, waiting for the carriers to unload the mechs and cargo, he stiffened slightly when Sunstreaker and Sideswipe emerged, carrying the now-gray body of his bonded gently between them. The CMO lowered his head slightly as they passed, noticing the concerned stares he received from the brothers. He didn't have the spark to snap at them, and merely followed them sullenly back to the previously-empty hangar where the fallen were kept until arrangements could be made.

They laid him gently upon an Autobot sized berth and, turning to leave, Sideswipe gripped Ratchet's shoulder tightly in a rare gesture of comfort. Ratchet let his optics to lock with Sideswipes, allowing the red warrior a brief glimpse of his pain before bowing his head again.

"If you need anything, Ratch…" Sideswipe said softly, "We're here. I know you think we're stupid aftheads that can't keep our acts together most of the time, but we're here."

Ratchet nodded his gratitude. It was all he could do. As soon as he was left alone, he approached the berth that held the body of his bondmate. Leaning down slowly, the medic pressed his forehead gently against Ironhide's as they had done on the day of the black mech's departure and palmed his hand to the Weapons Specialist's now-empty spark chamber. Clenching his optics tightly shut, Ratchet let out a single, shuddering cry at the overwhelming loss. He stayed this way for a few moments, mind blank and yet absolutely buzzing with memories, questions and regret at the things he had never said. Straightening slowly, he steeled himself and swallowed his roiling emotions and as he walked to the door of the hangar, he glanced back one last time.

"Like a solar flare," he whispered and turned to walk back out into the light of the base with his helm held high.


End file.
